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Comeback (1 Viewer)

Jeff Degginger

Senior Member
Hey guys, I figured I would share my newest poem with you all. I wrote this when considering a fictional alternative to why the girl I was interested in wouldn't respond to my texts or anything. So here's what I came up with... yeah... funny how you can make a piece of writing out of just about anything.

Comeback
By Jeff Degginger

The girl that I knew didn’t come back.

The girl that had my attraction.
The girl that had myself falling to pieces on a daily basis.
My word was crafted in a self loathing melodrama every time I spoke.
Even the cold shoulders of those days were enough for me.
I was lost in the fairy tale world of my making. But I was okay with all of that.

Then she left. She didn’t come back.

When she came back she looked the same.
This time she engaged me in conversation.
It was different, it was new.
She seemed interested with her body language.
She’d press against me, in hugs that were never granted before, and held too long for a friend.
Then she blew me the kiss.
My stomach churned.
It was wrong.

That’s the girl that came back.

But the dreams of my fantasy world were granted with her.
With her the soft whispers, the silent embraces, the dark rooms of passion, all exploded from the door hinges.
Access was everything.
Access was granted.
It was all I used to want.
Now I had it.
It seemed like it was free, but the price was great.
I knew what it was.
I just didn’t want to believe it.

That girl was stopped on a dark highway, gagged, and raped.

That’s what I learned when I met her mother.
Her mother was shocked upon learning of our relationship.
She’d never heard about me, as I had figured.
The girl that didn’t come back wouldn’t have told her mother about me.
I knew where I was with that girl.
This girl kissed me on the neck.
Said it was her favorite part about me.
That girl was wrong.
Her mother told me.

Why the girl would never come back.

The highway was dark, and no one found her for two days.
Naked from the waist down.
Bleeding.
The police were called. S
he was questioned.
They never found the guy that did it.

He took that girl.

Now I was left with this.
I know its wrong.
I tell myself every time her legs wrap around me.
Every time she licks her lips in my direction.
She holds me and tells me I’m the best thing that ever happened to her.
I tell her she could’ve been.
She doesn’t feel anything at my comment, as if it’s the most normal thing to say to someone who loves you.
I want her to see it, reflected in my eyes, that girl that my mind remembers, indifferent to my advances.

I imagine her comeback.

It would be somewhere in the middle of it.
When our sweat mixed.
When someone finished first.
When I would collapse upon her, kiss at her neck.
Her eyes would come back, unawares, and she would remember.
Like falling stars in the sky, she would comeback.
She would look at me and tell me to get off, to leave, to never come around again.
She would ignore me in class.
She would never answer my calls.
She would tell me gently that its never going to happen, now or again, whichever it had been while she was away.
She would let me down, and dissapoint.
She would take my fantasy world and throw it to the trash.
Then I would smile.
I would want her more than anything.

I’d be glad she came back.
 
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